Is James Frey Candyman?

Be careful how many times you say “James Frey” in public. He could appear right behind you.

On election night, Mr. Frey was out at Employees Only—the pretty would-be Prohibition-evocative hot-spot on Hudson by Christopher.

As he walked by the bar, he saw some guys he recognized with some other guys he didn’t recognize. He slowed. Maybe he would say hello. But then he over-heard that the topic of discussion was, oddly enough, James Frey. And, as it so often is in Manhattan, the discussion of Mr. Frey was not using the nicest of terms. At all. At least one of the men had had a bit of business dealings with Mr. Frey in the now-far past.

He pulled up to the bar and ordered a beverage of unknown contents in a highball glass, to better listen in. He confronted the men. Angry words were exchanged.

Well, no one hit anyone. Mr. Frey, in a fit, did however break his highball glass in at least a dozen pieces on the floor.